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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005289">Anne's Delivery Service</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendocialism/pseuds/nintendocialism'>nintendocialism</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Studio Avonlea [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV), Majo no Takkyuubin | Kiki's Delivery Service</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Multi, absolutely no historical basis, anne in kiki's world, artistic fulfilment, because i had a moral obligation, confused Anne, giving the gays a happy ending for pride month, i call things by a slightly unusual name and act like i did comprehensive worldbuilding, identity search, immediate besties anne and cole, immediate besties anne and diana, in homage to miyazaki being involved with early episodes of the aogg anime, learning to accept love, living in a cabin tending chickens, smitten gilbert, sneaking my jo/gertrude wish fulfilment into the last 5 minutes of pride month, televisions and puffed sleeves can and will coexist, to unify the world's two most cottagecore pieces of media</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:55:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendocialism/pseuds/nintendocialism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is sixteen, and ready to leave home for a year to apprentice herself to another witch and learn her craft. When she meets a boy on a ship, however, the plan goes out of the window. Over just a few months, Anne will get a crash course in learning to love herself, running a business, missing the only family she's ever had, and using a till. Oh, and also falling in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cole Mackenzie/Original Male Character(s), Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Josephine Barry/Gertrude, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Studio Avonlea [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anne's Delivery Service</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostofBambi/gifts">GhostofBambi</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyberius/gifts">shyberius</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I want to dedicate this to my wonderful friend Hannah, who proofread this for me (I wish I could post her comments, they're 193279x funnier than anything I could ever write) and is forever a cottagecore inspiration, to Ayna, the Studio to my Ghibli, and, as always, to Sarah, my fanfiction mentor who let me bounce ideas off her during what were probably inconvenient times of day for her. Thank you endlessly to all of you! I love you! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late August on the island was exactly as though Anne had designed it. The clouds were thin and wispy, hanging themselves precariously across the sky. She and her cat were currently staring up, up, up into the sky from her vantage point on the banks of the Lake of Shining Waters. It was a perfect blue, and the brightness of it made her eyes water a little. Matthew’s ancient radio buzzed and crackled its message, forcing it out through the static and into her eager ears.</p><p>‘We’re handing over to Rachel for the weather now; Rachel, what do the next few days have in store for us?’<br/>
‘Well, Thomas, tonight seems like it will be fine and clear for those of you wanting to spend the full moon outside. Tomorrow will be sunny and warm, hovering at around 24℃ at its peak and not dipping below 20 between 10 and 5…’</p><p>Anne hadn’t heard much further than ‘full moon.’ Though she’d promised Matthew and Marilla another month at least, she had been feeling restless since spring. The pull of the air and the sea constantly seemed to turn her head from Green Gables. The house had been her sanctuary for so long, filled with the people she loved most in the world, and the cushioning that had sprung up around her after Matthew and Marilla rescued her from the orphanage, having sensed the presence of another of their kind nearby. It was her idyll, her bubble, and she would forever love and cherish the place she called home.</p><p>It was time for her to grow up, though.</p><p>At sixteen, she was old enough to go out to complete her traditional year away from home, where she would apprentice herself to a witch and learn her craft, honing her specialities. She felt more than ready; she had been secretly stealing Marilla’s broom far more often than her mother was aware of. This was not, admittedly, the most impressive display of her stealthiness. She was big enough to own that she had been aided both by Matthew turning a blind eye, and the fact that Marilla was often out in the greenhouse mixing her potions and lotions for the general good of the Avonlea populace. So long as she was careful where she flew when she was around the house, she was often able to spend hours at a time skimming over the glassy surface of the lake, so close her petticoats would trail in the greenish water. This was to the significant displeasure of her distinctly hydrophobic cat, Cordelia. Sometimes she’d fly out to the fields and deliver a quick slap upside the head of her surrogate brother Jerry, the farmhand.</p><p>The only thing she really required to leave the cradle of her home was a clear night of the full moon. Which was, of course, precisely what Rachel Lynde of the Prince Edward Island Radio Station had provided her with.</p><p>*</p><p>‘Marilla! Marilla!’</p><p>‘Gracious, child, whatever has you running at such a speed? Sit down. Take deep breaths.’</p><p>‘Marilla, I heard it on Matthew’s radio! Tonight’s full moon will be clear!’</p><p>‘Anne, I… I thought we had one more month left to spend together?’</p><p>‘I know I promised you both, oh dearest of Marillas, but this feels like a sign! The sky is blue and the moon is full and clear. I must go, I must! You know how long I’ve wished to grow up.’</p><p>By now Matthew had heard the commotion and sidled silently into the greenhouse, hands still glowing slightly green from the residue of his earth magic, the smell of perfectly ripened apples following him as it always did.</p><p>‘Well now, I don’t see as though stopping her will help at all, Marilla. She’ll leave soon, anyhow.’ He turned to Anne, eyes full of pain at relinquishing her - an act so wholly against his wishes, and yet so in line with hers. ‘You’ll be much missed, though. We can set aside our camping trip to celebrate your return.’</p><p>Marilla crossed the room to gently grasp at Anne’s arm, pulling her into a warm embrace, saying all that she could not say in this one motion.</p><p>‘When did you grow up, dearest child?’</p><p>*</p><p>Marilla had always been sensible. She had always declined Anne’s requests for brighter dresses, with more ornamentation, frills, and puffed sleeves. She had never, however, given Anne a dress so plain and shapeless as this.</p><p>‘I’m growing up! Why can’t I have a pretty dress? Please, Marilla…’</p><p>‘Listen, child. This is tradition. This is the dress that I wore when I left home, and my mother before me.’</p><p>Anne felt awful, tears immediately trailing their way down her cheeks. Guilt and gratitude overwhelmed her at the same time.</p><p>‘An heirloom? Oh, I feel simply <em>horrible</em> for saying such things. I’m so terribly sorry! I shall treasure this dress and all it means to me as a symbol of you.’ She laid her red head on Marilla’s shoulder and clutched her. Wordlessly, her mother brought her hand to Anne’s bright hair and stroked it.</p><p>Another advantage to Marilla’s practicality was the fact that within ten minutes she had Anne’s rucksack perfectly packed, magically expanding the capacity so it all fit. All that was left was for Anne to say goodbye to her school friends and the animals on the Green Gables farm. There was a small party for her in the evening, hastily yet flawlessly thrown together by Marilla. For Anne, as the hour drew ever nearer, her emotions fluctuated between overpowering excitement and a roiling sense of nerves deep in her stomach. Sitting on the wicker chair on the verandah, she curled herself around the butterflies, hoping to squeeze them into submission.</p><p>‘What’s this - a little armadillo?’ came a gentle laugh from her very first kindred spirit as he eased himself into the chair next to her. He wound his hand round hers, linking their fingers, and squeezed. This act alone would normally calm her, but she felt the distinct warm buzz of his magic, passing sunlight from him, into her veins, and straight into her heart. She raised her head, a wan smile on her face, and looked into his eyes, shining dimly in the late summer evening.</p><p>‘You didn’t need that, Anne. I did. I need you to keep me with you up there.’ She felt his full meaning. <em>You can do this.</em></p><p>The party filtered out onto the front steps and the porch of Green Gables. Anne hugged Katie, Geraldine and Violet goodbye, leapt upon Jerry, and turned to find Matthew and Marilla standing in front of her, holding hands and leaning upon each other. They silently beckoned her towards them, and equally silently she stepped into their arms.</p><p>‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll write as soon as I get there.’ The circle held each other tightly for the last time for a year, before Anne stepped back, dropping their hands, and turned decisively towards the gate. She set her shoulders, inhaled, and took the new broom Marilla handed to her.</p><p>‘Oh, Marilla! It’s perfect!’ She stepped onto it, and rose into the air, gradually spinning to face her friends and family. ‘Thank you all! See you soon!’ Then she turned back, and flew gracefully off into the darkening sky.</p><p>*</p><p>Cordelia crept out of the bag where she had nestled during the flight so far and up onto Anne’s shoulder.</p><p>‘Where are we headed?’ she murmured into Anne’s ear.</p><p>‘The sea.’</p><p>Prince Edward Island’s red coves opened up in front of them, the blaze of the sun setting over the horizon and reflecting fire in the sea. In the east, the full moon began its ascent in a cloudless sky.</p><p>‘How long will you search for?’</p><p>‘I don’t think for long. Far enough to start a new life, but close enough that if they have any more health scares I can get home quickly.’ Matthew had had a heart attack two years prior, and Marilla’s eyes had been giving her trouble after many years of neat and painstaking sewing by candlelight.</p><p>Anne dipped towards the sea, fascinated by the frothing waves which would never be seen on the placid lake by Green Gables.</p><p>‘No, no, no! Anne! No!’ Cordelia squeaked, burying her face in the crook of Anne’s neck, her whiskers tickling her owner.</p><p>‘Get off, Cordelia! Do you want me to laugh so hard we fall in?’</p><p>Cordelia swiftly retreated into Anne’s backpack headfirst, not willing to witness one more second of the most terrifying flight of her life.</p><p>Anne flew out, stopping to watch the sun dip below the sea. She breathed it in, welcoming the cloak of night over her plain black dress, feeling at one. She was surrounded on all sides by darkness, from the sea to the sky, above and below, the centre of a sphere that encircled her.</p><p>Suddenly, <em>I’m surrounded on all sides by darkness,</em> she registered. The thought caused no little panic, but she endeavoured to keep it under control for the sake of her cat. She looked down, seeing light not far ahead. She headed for it, realising it was a ship, hung with lamps for those richer passengers who wished to dance the night away on deck. The <em>oom-pah-pah</em> of a waltz reached her ears first, and she smiled at the thought of her first real adventure. Not wishing to cause alarm, she stayed out of view of the top deck, coming to land clumsily on one below. She immediately reached into her bag and pulled out Cordelia, bringing her to her heart and stroking her behind the ears and below the jaw, her black fur glinting in the faint light of the flickering lamp further down the deck. She exhaled.</p><p>‘I’m sorry, Deedee. That wasn’t the plan at all.’</p><p>The cat shivered in her arms before relaxing into her. She leant against the wall, facing out east. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw the faint silvery brushstrokes the moonlight painted upon the waves.</p><p>‘<em>Wow</em>.’</p><p>Anne spun on her heel to where the awed, hushed voice had come from. There, further down the deck, wearing black trousers and a shirt darkened by coal dust, was a boy looming out of the dusk. She hadn’t seen him before, blending into the darkness as he did. Peering more closely at him, she noted his dark curls and bright eyes, his sharp jaw and a very nice chin. She looked away, unwilling to acknowledge him for another few seconds. People knew witches existed, of course. Inexplicably, she couldn’t stomach the thought of this person knowing she was one. She wasn’t embarrassed, of course, at such a crash landing in front of him. She just needed time to collect herself.</p><p>‘Hey, are you alright? You took a nasty fall there. Want me to have a look at your hands? They seem a bit scratched up.’</p><p>Anne, again, could not respond to him. She breathed deeper and faster, clutching Cordelia to her.</p><p>‘Anne,’ said the cat, ‘I would really appreciate it if you would. You’re getting blood on me.’</p><p>‘Oh!’ she whispered. ‘Well, then -’ she said, turning to the tall boy, taking slow and cautious steps towards her.</p><p>‘Hey, Carrots,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to check-’</p><p>It had taken less than a second for Anne to grab up her broomstick and whack him across the face with the brush.</p><p>‘Never speak to me again!’</p><p>‘I-’ protested the boy, still rubbing his cheek.</p><p>She had already run off.</p><p>*</p><p>She bedded down in the bow of the ship after treating her hands with the first aid kit which Marilla had so wisely provided, napping intermittently under the enormous quilt her mother had packed for her. When she awoke, it was not yet entirely light, but the sun was coming up in the east and washing the town with gold.</p><p>‘Deedee, do you know where we are?’</p><p>‘I think we might be in Charlottetown,’ said Cordelia, a little caustically. She had spotted a rather large sign which Anne, too fixated on the rising sun, had not.</p><p>‘Charlottetown? How perfect! That’s not far from Green Gables at all!’</p><p>‘Let’s get off this ship. We didn’t pay passage and I’m not in the mood to deal with policemen.’</p><p>‘You’re never in the mood to deal with anyone! And they can’t even hear you, anyway. I’m the one who has to deal with them.’</p><p>She packed her bag and climbed onto her broom. She didn’t see the boy from before rounding the corner, watching sadly as she rose off the deck, wending her way through the disembarking passengers who turned their heads in awe as she made for the skyline of the city.</p><p>She turned into an alleyway where she would be in nobody’s way and disembarked, ducking into a café for a coffee and a bowl of porridge before making her way to the town hall, where they would have records of local witches. The town hall of Charlottetown was famous in the maritimes for its striking clock tower in the Gothic style, and was easy to pick out on the horizon. The street was busy - Anne had lingered at her table on the pavement, watching the world wake as she perused Jane Eyre. People were now awake and heading to work. Tired of fumbling at a snail’s pace along the road, her feet aching from being stepped on far too many times, she took to her broom, entering the traffic flow above the road at the roughly correct height for automobiles. She garnered quite a few second looks, which she returned with grins, but soon noticed that in the flood of people stood the boy from the ship. He clutched a battered leather suitcase, clearly quite heavy. He was wearing a suit, he was clean - and he was staring directly at her. She averted her eyes swiftly, covering her face in her hair, and yet fully aware that the bright red sheen still marked her out. Besides, he had certainly taken notice of it before, she thought bitterly. He would be able to tell it was her whether he had seen her face or not.</p><p>In her distraction, Anne had hardly noticed the narrowing of traffic before entering a tunnel, and as she swerved to enter it she nearly flew directly into an omnibus. Missing it by a thread, she spun out into the road, crash-landing once again. The omnibus veered off, only just missing an automobile. Luckily, no one was hurt and no property had been damaged, but Deedee’s prediction had proved correct - she heard the shrill whistle that traditionally heralded the arrival of the police. She deflated - what an inauspicious start to her sojourn in Charlottetown! Clutching her bag to her, she stood up, brushing the red dust off her knees and hanging her head. She looked up to see-</p><p>‘Thief! THIEF!’</p><p>The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Anne did not have time to dwell on it as the policeman huffed, said ‘stay right there,’ and took off in pursuit. Anne did not stay right there, but rather turned tail and ran down the cobbled street on which she found herself. She’d had no time to get on her broomstick, but once she deemed herself far enough away she paused.</p><p>‘Hey! Hey, you! From the boat!’</p><p>‘Oh, not now!’ Anne breathed, realising she was being gained on by the boy from the ship. If it had been him who had shouted ‘thief,’ she supposed he deserved her thanks. She reluctantly rotated on her heel to face him, and froze, her eyes widening. She didn’t know why. It had nothing to do with the way his hair was ruffled by the breeze as he ran towards her, and nothing to do with how well his suit fit him as he came to a halt and leaned his hands on his knees to catch his breath. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way his arms flexed as he did so.</p><p>‘I caught you!’ he wheezed triumphantly. ‘Thanks for waiting. Listen-’</p><p>‘Thank you for your service,’ she intoned primly. ‘It was much appreciated.’ She swiftly lost her composure. ‘And certainly the <em>least</em> you could do after insulting me so <em>horrendously</em> on the ship!’</p><p>‘Please forgive me, Miss- um, what is your name? So that I can apologise properly, of course.’</p><p>It slipped out without thinking, she would always swear afterwards. ‘Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.’</p><p>His face softened, and he smiled. It reached his eyes, and Anne caught herself thinking it suited him. It seemed as though a smile fit on his face, transforming him into a good-humoured imp, rather than the cruel demon she had thought him before. She supposed he wasn’t grossly deformed. ‘Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, I hope the service I rendered you back there goes some way to repairing the grievous wrong I have done you. I apologise from the bottom of my heart.’</p><p>Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you making fun of me?’</p><p>He lost his smile in his quest for sincerity. ‘No! No. I am trying to treat this with the gravity it deserves. I was rude! And I like your hair. I only said it because I wanted to meet you so much, and you were ignoring me.’ His hand came up between them for a moment, and her breath hitched as she realised it was going in the direction of her hair. The moment didn’t last, though. She looked up at him as he redirected his hand, running it through his own hair.</p><p>‘Apology accepted.’</p><p>The smile was back where it belonged, settling comfortably into the lines around his eyes. She released a breath, and felt truly calm for the first time since he’d called her ‘Carrots.’ She sent a shy smile his way, before curbing it. She turned away and carried on walking, though not at pace, seemingly inviting him to walk with her. He stood rooted to the ground for a moment, wistfully staring at her, and remembering her smile, before running after her.</p><p>‘So, uh,’ he hedged, speech deserting him, ‘wh-what are you doing in Charlottetown? And, uh, did you want me to look at your hands? And are you alright from earlier in the road?’</p><p>‘Goodness,’ she said, ‘which question shall I answer first? I’m afraid I must first ask you your own name?’ She was reliving the fall from five minutes earlier, cringing at the thought that he had seen that too.</p><p>‘My name is Gilbert Blythe, and I want to be a doctor, by the way, so if you did want me to look over your injuries…’</p><p><em>Well</em>, Anne thought, <em>if he’s going to be a doctor, what’s the harm in him looking</em>? This, again, had absolutely nothing to do with the sweetly concerned look on his face. ‘Very well, Mr Blythe. I consent. I have a first aid kit for your use, but I need to get to the town hall soon. Can you take me?’</p><p>‘I’ll have a look, and then you can follow me!’ he beamed brightly. She could hardly look at him. He was like the sun.</p><p>He took her hands in his, and she shivered as he took the wipes Marilla had packed and gently bound the worst of the damage. The scratches she had got on the boat had reopened, and, in some places, been opened up by her fall on the road.</p><p>‘You know,’ he said, ‘when I was in Rotterdam this summer my tooth had to be operated on, and when they brought out the needle of anaesthetic I did their job for them and fainted dead away.’ He didn’t have to tell her why he was telling her this embarrassing tale, and she appreciated him showing her his own mortifying moment.</p><p>They walked together through the picturesque streets of Charlottetown, with Gilbert the most excellent tour guide, pointing out historical sites of interest, the secret passageways, and hidden gems of shops. She told him her purpose in Charlottetown, and briefly sketched Green Gables, Marilla and Matthew to him. He was interested in everything she had to say, asking her about her parents and the farm. They walked past the post office, which was in rubble.</p><p>‘It caught fire last month. My brother wrote to me about it. No one was hurt, but it was quite the blaze. Postage has been pretty hard since then. I’ve no idea how he got me the letter in the first place! I think he went through the shipping company.’</p><p>‘Does your brother live here?’</p><p>‘Yes, with his wife, Mary. I live with them, and Mary’s expecting in two months! I’ve come home to help them prepare for the birth.’</p><p>‘Where have you been?’</p><p>‘Well, you see, I left town after my father died.’ He frowned, then shrugged his shoulders, as if to shake off a bad memory. She touched his arm carefully, in sympathy. ‘I was home for a few months, but I wasn’t quite done seeing the world, and besides, I knew they were expecting. So this summer I took passage on another ship going around the ports of Europe and satisfied my wanderlust that way, and also earned some money for the baby.’</p><p>‘How splendid! I hope you’ll tell me all about it someday…’</p><p>He watched her stare off into the distance and grinned again. ‘Maybe <em>someday</em> I will! Anyway, they think the ship’s coming in tomorrow, so I’m going to surprise them today.’</p><p>‘Oh, how lovely!’ She had quite forgotten her previous animosity. She stopped, and so did he. They stood looking at each other for a moment.</p><p>‘The town hall’s just there,’ he said, pointing to a building she had recognised. Neither made any attempt to move away from each other.</p><p>‘GILBERT!’ came a cry from the road. ‘GILBERT!’</p><p>They whipped round to see a roofless automobile crammed full of people about their age. Two boys hopped off their perches on the edge of the door and grabbed him. ‘You’re home! Why didn’t you tell us? Bash told us you were coming back tomorrow.’</p><p>‘I- I- uh,’ he stammered, looking back for Anne as he was dragged towards the automobile. Somehow, the bright-haired girl had vanished.</p><p>*</p><p>The alley stank as Anne pressed herself flat against the wall. She gagged, and Deedee yowled at her to leave. They heard the sputtering of the machine as it started off, and Gilbert’s voice distinctly say ‘wait!’ but it all grew quieter as the automobile drew off into the distance. She breathed out, running out of her hiding place and towards the town hall.</p><p>The town hall was not helpful. All that effort to get there, and there was nothing. The records were confidential, said one clerk, and another said that Charlottetown had other concerns than recording who was a witch and who wasn’t. Uninformed and deflated, Anne trudged out of the town hall and took a walk to clear her head. She rounded a corner, and another, stopping only to grab lunch for her and Deedee from a grocer. She wound her way up a cobbled street to the top of a hill, stopping to allow a woman with a pram past, and settled on a bench to eat, looking down the hill and out towards the sea.</p><p>A door flung open behind her.</p><p>‘Ma’am! Ma’am! You left this behind! You left your dummy!’</p><p>A heavily pregnant woman waddled out of a bakery, frantically waving a dummy in her hand. Anne stopped eating and looked at her. Her black hair was done in the same way Marilla always did hers. Anne had always liked that style; it was simple and elegant. Her heart gave a pang.</p><p>‘Excuse me, Ma’am,’ she said. ‘I can take it to her!’</p><p>‘Oh, how kind! Thank you, dear. I’d go myself, but you see my-’ she pointed to her stomach. ‘I hope you can catch-’</p><p>Anne had pulled out her broom. The woman’s eyes widened. ‘I see,’ she said warmly. She held out the dummy to Anne with a happy laugh. ‘Come back when you’ve managed it! I’m sure I can rustle up something for you and your cat.’</p><p>Cordelia gave a loud and approving purr.</p><p>Anne took off, reaching the woman at the base of the hill. ‘I believe you forgot this!’ The baby was already crying, so Anne gave the dummy to the anxious mother amid a flood of thanks, gave a cheery ‘you’re welcome! Have a lovely day!’ and flew back up to the summit of the hill.</p><p>‘Thank you, dear!’ said the woman. ‘Come on in.’</p><p>Though the day was hot, the enveloping scent of bread and the accompanying heat were not unwelcome to Anne. The woman led her through the back of the shop and up the stairs, inquiring about Anne’s purpose in Charlottetown. She sat Anne down at the table and filled a saucer of milk for Cordelia, before offering Anne a choice of drinks.</p><p>‘You know, in all of that fuss, I forgot to ask what your name is?’ she inquired as she bustled around the sweet little kitchen. Its beams were studded with mementos, from photos and tickets to hangings and flags, and the tiling and tablecloth were both a deep blue and white.</p><p>‘Anne,’ she replied. ‘And this is Cordelia, or Deedee for short. What’s your name?’</p><p>‘Mary,’ said the lady. Anne’s heart gave a quick jolt - a pregnant Mary? But that was a common enough name. It surely couldn’t be the same Mary. Not in a town this size. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and told herself to calm down.</p><p>‘Oh, Mary! This is delicious!’</p><p>‘The trick is using milk, not water and a pinch of cinnamon,’ Mary winked back. ‘You know, that was incredibly helpful, what you did. People could stand to use a delivery service, especially with the post office out of action.’</p><p>‘Do you think so? I don’t have much money, only enough to get me through to next week. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to make some more until I find a witch to apprentice myself to.’</p><p>‘We have a spare room, actually. We often let it out, so it has a bed in it, and we have an old telephone you could hook up to take appointments. You could stay there until you land on your feet?’</p><p>‘That’s so kind of you! Are you sure?’</p><p>‘I’ll have to check with my husband, but I’m sure we can have you here! Would you promise to watch the shop every so often? I’m sure if you do we can lower the rent.’ Mary smiled, raising a hand to her face to brush her hair back. She rested her head on it, grinning at Anne like an eager child. Anne’s heart expanded even more, filling with warmth for this kindred spirit. She could tell Mary was going out of her way to ensure Anne could stay, lowering the rent for her.</p><p>‘Of course! It would be my pleasure.’</p><p>The staircase creaked as someone made their way up it.</p><p>‘Sebastian!’ Mary effused, standing up with greater ease than Anne had seen her do before. She glowed as her husband came through the door. ‘I’ve found us a boarder. She can use the spare room, right? Until she gets on her feet?’</p><p>Sebastian turned to Anne, wearing a grin. He reached his hand out to shake, and took in her dark dress and broomstick.</p><p>‘A witch, huh? Is it your year away?’</p><p>Anne smiled back. ‘It is! I’m searching for a witch to apprentice myself to.’</p><p>‘Ah, I’m sure you’ll find one. We’ll help you out! Of course she can stay, Mary. Will she be alright to mind the shop a little when the baby comes? Of course, we can always ask- Gilbert!’</p><p>‘Hello, Bash! Hello, Mary! Hello, Baby Lacroix - Anne?’</p><p>Anne had quickly stood up, pale with shock. ‘Gilbert.’</p><p>His smile fell, and she was struck by the need to put it back on his face. ‘What a happy coincidence,’ she heard herself say.</p><p>Bash and Mary had looked between the two. ‘You know each other?’ Bash asked.</p><p>‘Anne flew her broomstick onto the boat last night, and I showed her to the town hall today,’ Gilbert gave a halting and truncated version of their already varied history.</p><p>‘And you left this lovely lady by herself? Shame on you, you moke,’ Bash said, making his way over to his brother and strongarming him into a hug. ‘And we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow!’</p><p>‘I lied,’ said Gilbert sheepishly. ‘I wanted to surprise you.’</p><p>Mary opened her arms for him and he stepped into them gratefully. ‘Welcome home, Gilbert.’ Bash slapped him gently upside the head and spread his other arm round the two of them.</p><p>‘Well, Anne,’ he smiled at her. ‘Still want to stay in this madhouse?’</p><p>*</p><p>Anne’s answer had, of course, been yes, though with no little trepidation at the realisation that she would be next door to Gilbert. She moved herself into the little spare room, putting up pictures of her family, sketches and watercolours of Green Gables and the animals, and various other mementoes of home. She almost wished she hadn’t - they made her homesick just before bed. She still kept them up, though.</p><p>On her desk, in pride of place, sat the very first photograph ever taken of her and her parents. She had been eleven. Her hair was plaited evenly, but was beginning to come loose, as it still did to this day. Her eyes were bright, her toothy grin wide. The verandah furniture had been dragged onto the lawn so that the house was in the background, and Matthew and Marilla had sat primly in them with a third chair set out for Anne in the middle. Before long, she had tired of it. She placed the other chair out of view of the distant cousin taking the photo, wheedled Matthew and Marilla into moving next to each other, and stood behind them, flinging her arms around them and smiling broadly. The photo in question had been taken just as her parents had loosened up. Marilla was laughing her (then) raw and long-unused laugh, wryly smiling into the camera. Matthew was looking up at her proudly. Looking at the photo now, she remembered how, not a second later, he had pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her cheek. He had that particular photograph on his own desk.</p><p>She tucked herself in under the quilt, took one last look at the photograph, and switched off the light.</p><p>*</p><p>Anne’s first day on the job was eventful, to say the least.</p><p>She had been in the shop with Mary when someone came in clutching a strip of paper. The day after she had moved in she had taken painstaking care writing out posters with tear-off strips on the bottom with the shop’s address and phone number to advertise her business. She and Gilbert had gone out to tack them up. Unable to bear it, she had suggested they split up. She could tell he was still upset that she had disappeared whilst his back was turned, and she wasn’t ready to explain why. She wasn’t even sure she knew why.</p><p>The woman who entered the shop was beautifully dressed in a tailored suit. Anne had been transfixed by her outfit when she called her name.</p><p>‘Anne… er, Shirley-Cuthbert? My name is Muriel Stacy, I called earlier,’ she said to Mary.</p><p>‘No, that’s me!’ Anne jumped to her feet, sticking her arm out for the woman to shake. She bobbed a quick curtsey for good measure. ‘How can I help you?’</p><p>The woman held out the package she was holding, and unveiled it.</p><p>‘Sadly, I won’t be able to go to my nephew’s birthday party today. Until I saw your flyer, I assumed I’d have to wait until I next saw him, since the post office is out of business. But now you have appeared and saved me from my sister’s wrath!’</p><p>The package was a birdcage, and inside was a little black cat toy that bore a remarkable resemblance to Cordelia. The woman gave Anne the address, which she swiftly looked up on the map and confirmed with her first customer.</p><p>‘How much for that?’</p><p>Anne shrugged helplessly, looking to Mary for help. ‘I… er…’ She looked down at her hands, and so she did not see the glance Mary and the lady exchanged, but looked up to see a staggering amount of money being held out to her.</p><p>‘Gracious! Are you sure?’</p><p>‘Of course! Just make sure it’s there by six o’clock.’</p><p>‘Thank you Ma’am! Have a wonderful day!’</p><p>*</p><p>Anne was not having a wonderful day. She had failed to heed the warning of some geese that there was a gust of wind coming, and she, her broomstick, Deedee and Deedee’s twin had tumbled down into the forest. It was dark inside, not helped by the fact that in her descent she had cracked some eggs. The mother’s comrades banded together to launch surprise attacks from the gaps in the trees.</p><p>Because, didn’t she mention, the cat toy had fallen out of its cage? It was currently lying somewhere on the thick carpet of needles which lay upon the soil. But Anne did not know where.</p><p>‘Anything, Anne?’ asked Deedee, halfway up a tree. This was not a good idea, for Anne slowly span around and pinned her in place with her eyes.</p><p>‘No, Anne,’ she said wearily. ‘No. No!’</p><p>‘Yes,’ replied Anne, opening the cage door.</p><p>*</p><p>‘Stay stock still, don’t move. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’</p><p>‘You better be,’ reproached DeeDee, not twitching a muscle. ‘If they have a dog, I’m not accountable for what happens next.’</p><p>‘I wouldn’t expect you to be,’ Anne soothed, raising her hand to knock. She was preempted by a bark. Their eyes widened.</p><p>The door opened to reveal a young boy, face screwed up unpleasantly.</p><p>‘Mother! There’s someone at the door!’</p><p>His harrowed and obsequious mother came to the door.</p><p>‘I have a delivery from your sister! If you could just sign here…’ Anne pointed to a dotted line on her sheet.</p><p>‘Aw,’ whined the child, ‘is that it?’</p><p>‘Hush, Billy,’ said his mother, but turned to Anne. ‘Is that really all she sent?’</p><p>Anne took offence on Cordelia’s behalf. ‘It’s really a rather lovely toy,’ she frowned, before collecting herself. ‘I don’t have anything else. Anyway, have a lovely day!’ she exclaimed, speeding off into the distance on her time-sensitive mission.</p><p>*</p><p>The cat was staring her right in the face. It was perched on the windowsill, surrounded by potted plants and jars of paint brushes.</p><p>‘I see you…’ she murmured. ‘Hello?’</p><p>Her raised voice caused the crows to scatter from their position in the trees around the clearing in which the cabin was situated. ‘Oh God, oh no!’</p><p>‘Can I help you?’ came a laconic voice from the roof. She looked up to see a blonde boy leaning off the eaves, hanging precariously on his chimney as he suspended himself in the air.</p><p>‘Uh, yes,’ she said, collecting herself. ‘My name is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, and I’ve come to collect my cat.’ She held her hand out expectantly.</p><p>‘How do I know it’s yours?’ he asked. She had not expected this.</p><p>‘I assure you, I have never been anything less than trustworthy.’</p><p>‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’</p><p>‘Listen, er-’</p><p>‘Cole,’ said the boy, descending a ladder round the back of the cabin.</p><p>‘Listen, Cole. I’ll do anything! I have to deliver that cat to a small boy because I lost it and I delivered my cat in its stead and they have a dog and I’m very worried and-’</p><p>‘Alright, Anne. If you can clean my kitchen floor, I’ll give you your cat back.’</p><p>‘What? Why?’</p><p>‘Some kid broke my arm a few years back. I can do it, I just prefer not to, and since you’re here and willing to ‘do anything,’ I figured you wouldn’t mind if I set you to work for an hour or two. It’ll be fun. We can chat.’ He had made air quotation marks with one hand quite effectively, and the other less so, proving his truthfulness whether he realised it or not.</p><p>‘Fine,’ she exhaled, ‘where’s your bucket and soap?’</p><p>Not five minutes later, she and Cole were deep in a discussion about the experience of being an outcast in childhood. She could understand why Cole had secluded himself deep in these woods, aside from the artistic inspiration. There was something appealing about isolation and the control it gave you. Yet Cole seemed confident, and happy in his own company. It transpired that a woman in Charlottetown had taken him in and loved him into happiness, much as Matthew and Marilla had done for her. For Cole, though, it had given him the impetus to go off to fulfil his artistic promise. He’d been out here for two months now, though he was looking forward to going home to his ‘Aunt Jo’ in a month to stay with her for a while. Anne, on the other hand, had gone in the other direction. She had taken to being loved; it was almost her hobby. What made her happy was the presence of others. Yet she had found a kindred spirit in Cole; they were two sides of the same coin, each seeing something in the other’s way of life which appealed to them.</p><p>When it was time for her to go, she grabbed him and held him in a hug. ‘When you come back to town, look me up at the bakery. Promise?’</p><p>With his good hand, he hooked his pinkie with hers. ‘Promise.’</p><p>He watched as she ascended straight up out of the clearing, and went back inside to sketch. He hadn’t sketched since the incident, but inspiration had struck.</p><p>*</p><p>Anne touched back down at the Andrews’ in the dark. The yellow gas-lamps studded the night, guiding her down to the driveway. An ancient beagle lay there, and next to him sat Deedee, talking animatedly about Charlottetown.</p><p>‘Anne! Anne, this is Roger. Roger, this is Anne - I told you about her.’ Roger gave a solemn nod.</p><p>Anne nodded back. ‘Roger, would you mind taking this back to Billy?’ She held out the cat toy to him. He stared at it, and looked to Deedee. They bumped noses, and then Roger took the toy from Anne’s outstretched hand. He turned to go back in, looking over his shoulder once more, before lumbering through his dog flap.</p><p>‘Let’s go, Anne. I’m exhausted.’</p><p>*</p><p>The Blythe-Lacroix household was out of their minds with worry when Anne appeared at the door. She accepted a cup of hot chocolate, and Deedee eagerly lapped at her milk as she recounted her story to gales of laughter. When she described Cole and the rapid and abiding friendship they found, however, Gilbert put down his mug with a thud. Bash immediately began talking, filling the little silence, and the moment passed quickly.</p><p>‘Anyway, I’m exhausted! I’m going to head to bed,’ she yawned not long after.</p><p>‘I’ll come too,’ Gilbert rushed out, and followed her upstairs.</p><p>‘Goodnight, Gil-’</p><p>‘So, Cole, huh? Are you going to see him when he comes back?’</p><p>The truth was that she would be seeing Cole, but something within told her to hedge. ‘If he has the time. He told me he has someone special he wants to see when he’s here, if you catch my drift.’ Gilbert did catch her drift, the colour coming back to his cheeks, but she felt the need to make sure he had a firm hold on it. ‘He certainly sounded very smitten! I can’t wait to meet them.’</p><p>Gilbert relaxed further. ‘Well, goodnight, Anne. And I like the name Gil.’</p><p>*</p><p>One morning, about a week later, Anne and Gilbert rose just before Bash and Mary, and sat companionably at the kitchen table, inquiring of the other’s plans for the day and commenting on the books they were reading. Gilbert was deep in some medical tract which he was finding riveting, and though Anne had no clue what he was talking about, just hearing him talk about it brought a grin to her face. The more she listened, besides, the more she understood, and he promised to lend her an introductory text on the subject. She was fascinated as he described coming across a doctor in London, who had given him this copy under the condition that he promised to send her regular updates on his education. In turn, Gilbert listened raptly as she told him about reading Jane Eyre from her new perspective as a professional woman. He had a faint smile on his face as she spoke, which was the scene that Mary and Bash walked in on, sharing a smirk as they went to the countertop.</p><p>Gilbert waited for her to finish before glancing at his book, fixing it intently with his eyes before saying, ever so casually, ‘there’s a party tonight. At Diana’s. She’s an old friend from childhood, and I think you two would really get on.’ He kept his gaze firmly on his book until he heard her answer.</p><p>‘I would… like that. I think. So long as my deliveries don’t keep me.’</p><p>He grinned. ‘I’ll meet you back here at 6, then.’</p><p>It was not quite the effusive affirmative he had dreamed of, but nonetheless he was pleased. He’d not expected much more - any time he seemed to get somewhere with Anne, she’d retreat. If only he knew that it was not so much him as the prospect of his friends, the sophisticated, bright young things she had seen in that automobile, which scared her half to death. Her reticence regarding the deliveries he could, however, understand. He thought with fondness of her dedication to getting the job exactly right, especially after that first delivery. He admired that about her. Her determination, her attention to getting it right. The way she didn’t want to let anyone down…</p><p>‘Gilbert! Gilbert!’ Bash waved a hand in front of his face. ‘Your lecture begins at 9. It’s 8.45.’</p><p>‘Oh! Right!’ he exclaimed, springing to his feet and wrangling his satchel over his shoulder. He shoved his cap over his unruly curls and paused to nod to the assembled company, before scrambling out of the door.</p><p>‘<em>Sebastian</em>,’ Mary reproached, chuckling. ‘It’s 8.15 and you know it.’</p><p>‘Oh, my love,’ cackled Bash from the window, ‘you know how I like to see him run.’ Indeed, that particular window offered a perfect view of a very stressed Gilbert hightailing it down the hill towards the clocktower, where he would soon realise the prank played on him.</p><p>*</p><p>At two o’clock, Anne left the house on her broom for the address she had been given on the phone. She alighted soon after, walking up the pristine steps to rap smartly upon the door, as she felt the grandeur demanded. The door was opened by an older lady, dressed richly in fabrics Anne could only dream of.</p><p>‘Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?’ She scarcely waited for Anne’s nod before grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her through the ornate foyer with its black and white tiles. ‘Hello, dear. I had to come and get you myself. I ordered all the servants out of the kitchen so I could attempt to make something for my great-niece’s birthday and I can hardly bear to own the fact that it’s gone horrendously wrong. They’d find out if they brought you down to see me.’ The woman’s energy was not what one would expect from someone her age; though she used a walking stick, her vibrancy fizzled around her. Anne found herself laughing.</p><p>‘Can I help you with it?’</p><p>‘Oh, if you would, my dear, I would pay you double!’</p><p>‘I wouldn’t ask that!’ cried Anne, though she could see her client could well afford it. The woman’s care for her family reminded Anne of Marilla, though Marilla would never mess up a recipe. That aspect of the tale reminded Anne of herself. Only yesterday she had been recounting to Gilbert the story of the liniment cake. ‘Of course I’ll help you, though I can’t promise any staggering results.’</p><p>‘Anything is better than the burnt husk I’ve produced so far!’ Indeed, by now they had reached the kitchen. The tiles were daubed in a clumping floury mix, and on the enormous oak table sat a charred cake, oozing entirely raw mixture from its centre. Anne turned to the woman.</p><p>‘I think I can probably do something better than that.’</p><p>*</p><p>Miss Barry - or Aunt Jo, as she bade Anne call her, resulting in the delightful discovery of their mutual acquaintance - and Anne got along immediately. Aunt Jo called down her wife, Gertrude, to join them when she heard the front door open and close. The three got stuck into a discussion of the Brontë sisters, as Anne whipped up the cake mix and Gertrude came to her side to mix the frosting. Aunt Jo sat on the other side of the table, watching the other women bake the cupcakes she had fully intended to bake herself.</p><p>‘Jo,’ scolded Gertrude, ‘if you can’t make yourself useful here, at least wipe down the dreadful mess from that pitiful attempt you made earlier.’ She shared a smirk with Anne, who was delicately sifting the flour with motions learned precisely from years of watching Marilla.</p><p>Aunt Jo halfheartedly wiped the surface until she caught a glare from Anne. She laughed harder and set to work properly.</p><p>‘So,’ said Anne, ‘Cole is coming back soon?’</p><p>‘He is!’ smiled Gertrude. ‘I’m so excited to have our boy home. I do so love his letters and sketches, but there’s nothing like the real thing.’</p><p>‘His sketches,’ murmured Aunt Jo. ‘They’re a relatively recent development, in the last few weeks. It makes me so happy to see. After the accident, all he would do is sculpt and paint with the brushstrokes. Far be it from me to turn down anything Impressionist, and it was good to see him develop his colour-mixing - but he was so very good at his lifelike sketches.’</p><p>‘I know it hurt him terribly to have that taken away from him,’ said Gertrude. ‘Come to think of it, there was a sketch of a young girl in there a few weeks ago. We wondered who he might have come across who would model for him, and I think we’ve found our answer.’</p><p>Anne flushed. ‘I can already tell he shall be a dear friend.’</p><p>The women smiled, Aunt Jo coming forward to wrap her arm round Gertrude’s waist and press a soft kiss to her cheek. ‘I think we know the feeling.’</p><p>*</p><p>The cupcakes in the oven, Anne settled in with Aunt Jo and Gertrude for a cup of tea from the finest china she’d ever seen.</p><p>‘I must be back at six,’ she said, sitting down at about three o’clock. The women nodded, and thus a very happy sunlit afternoon was passed. Gertrude left the room and came back with a large-leafed plant in a terracotta pot, the deepest shade of green.</p><p>‘I thought you might like this, for your new room.’</p><p>‘Oh, Gertrude! Thank you! I cannot thank you enough,’ Anne effused, burying her face into the plant and imagining the sweet and powerful oxygen suffusing her lungs. ‘Speaking of my room, I must be getting home! It’s a quarter to now, so I’d best be off.’</p><p>Aunt Jo and Gertrude shared a panicked glance. ‘Oh Anne,’ said Gertrude, ‘I’m so sorry! We lost track of time and that clock’s thirty minutes fast!’</p><p>Aunt Jo began to pack up the cake, handing it to Anne along with the plant in a wooden crate from the pantry. Also inside the crate was more money than even the well-dressed woman had given her.</p><p>‘For your invaluable help and a memorable afternoon. Now go, but come back soon!’</p><p>Anne ran through the house, out of the front door, and took off.</p><p>*</p><p>Aunt Jo’s nephew’s house was just as grand as his aunt’s, but Anne had no time to admire the splendour, running to the door bright red and hideously out of breath. It was already twenty minutes past six. She knocked on the door, which opened to reveal a beautiful girl of about her age, with black hair tied back with a light blue ribbon which matched her dress.</p><p>‘Uh, hello?’</p><p>‘Special delivery from your Aunt Jo! Could you just sign here?’</p><p>‘Of course! Minnie May, come here!’ A younger girl appeared by her side. ‘Look - Aunt Jo made me cupcakes! How sweet and unexpected…’</p><p>‘Are you sure, Diana?’</p><p>‘Diana?’ said Anne. ‘Are you Gilbert’s friend Diana, by any chance?’</p><p>‘Yes, I am! How do you know Gil?’</p><p>‘Bash and Mary took me in when I came here for witch’s training.’</p><p>‘A witch?’ Diana sounded enthralled. ‘Oh, you simply must tell me everything. How are you finding Charlottetown?’</p><p>‘Anne?’ came a voice behind her, coming up the drive.</p><p>‘Gilbert! What are the chances that my delivery would bring me to the very place that I needed to be this evening?’</p><p>‘I see! I waited for you until ten past.’</p><p>‘I’m terribly sorry! I was keeping an eye on the clock, I promise you.’ She drew nearer to him. ‘I just didn’t know it was half an hour slow and we were talking so long I lost track of time.’</p><p>‘Don’t worry, Carrots. I thought it was probably just a delivery.’ He looked relieved.</p><p>‘Of course it was! And, well, do I have a story for you as to why it took so long!’</p><p>This was his chance. As they turned back towards the house, he flung an arm about her shoulders, squeezing her to him in a quick hug, much to the interest of Diana. As he had predicted, Anne and Diana were stuck together like glue for the rest of the party, so he stayed near them as Anne recounted the afternoon to both of them.</p><p>*</p><p>The party had started well, with Anne meeting many of Gilbert’s friends (and liking almost all of them) but finished in a disaster. Anne had brought with her, in case she had not been able to make it home in time, a bottle of Marilla’s raspberry cordial which she had packed when she left. She thought it an appropriate gift to bring to show her thanks. It had proved a hit with Diana, who stole it away. Anne let her, of course, as the birthday girl, but as the night went on Diana grew sluggish and giggly, tripping over the corners of the rugs and up the stairs. Eventually, she had been found asleep, fully clothed, on her bed. Anne was sitting next to her, rubbing her back, and Gilbert had gone to fetch her a glass of water, when Mrs Barry walked in. With no Gilbert to vouch for her and a groggy and snoring Diana by her side, Anne felt her heart sink.</p><p>‘Who are you?’ came Eliza Barry’s imperious voice.</p><p>‘My name is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, and I’m boarding as the Blythe-Lacroix’s guest’ said Anne, bobbing a wobbly curtsey as her nerves kicked in.</p><p>‘And what is wrong with my daughter?’</p><p>‘I’m not too sure, ma’am. Gilbert has gone to get her a glass of water.’</p><p>Mrs Barry had crossed the room to her daughter’s side and plucked from her hand the empty bottle. She gave it a sniff; a look of anger crossed her face. Checking the label she saw the words ‘Property of Marilla Cuthbert’ in perfect copperplate.</p><p>‘Your mother, I presume?’ she said in barely controlled anger.</p><p>‘Adoptive,’ provided Anne. ‘I’m an orphan, and the Cuthberts took me in.’</p><p>‘This is not raspberry cordial, child. This is currant wine.’</p><p>‘I didn’t know! I didn’t taste a drop! Diana drank it all.’</p><p>‘All? <em>All</em>?’ Mrs Barry’s fury filled the air, and now, paying attention, Anne could smell the whiff of alcohol on the air and on Diana’s breath.</p><p>‘I-’</p><p>‘Get out of my house, and never come back. I don’t know you, and even if I did, a dirty orphan could never be a suitable companion for my Diana. I ask ‘who are you,’ and even you don’t know! Who are your parents? Who are their parents? Where are they from? Nobody knows! You’re worthless. Get out of my sight and never contact my daughter again.’</p><p>Anne dashed out of the room, hot tears blazing down her cheeks. She bumped into Gilbert, who was carrying a glass of water, on her way out of the room. He put it down immediately and followed her out the driveway, where she was crumpled on the ground. He sank down next to her and put a comforting around her shoulders, as he had done earlier in the night. She leant into him and wept.</p><p>‘She’s right,’ she said. ‘I’m just an ugly orphan. I don’t know who I am and I don’t know why I thought I could have friends like all of you.’</p><p>‘Mrs Barry has a track record of being wrong,’ he said, rubbing her arm. ‘This beats all.’</p><p>‘How am I supposed to know what kind of witch I am when I don’t even know who my parents are? All I can do is fly, and I don’t always do that well.’</p><p>‘Your magic is - it seems to me - of the elements. You have hair like fire, you navigate the sky, you are drawn to the sea, and you grew up with the earth. You have powers I can’t even imagine. It’s like you bring everything together.’</p><p>Gilbert exhaled after his speech, drawing her closer to him. <em>That was risky</em>. She sat in his arms for a moment, before scrambling away and opening her bag. He watched her, not hurt, but inquisitive. She lifted Cordelia out of the rucksack, nestling her in the crook of her neck. He reached out to stroke the cat, and they both let him.</p><p>‘Let’s get you home.’</p><p>*</p><p>That night he lay in bed, thinking. He could hear her sobs through their shared wall, and longed to reach out and comfort her. Out of nowhere, he heard a loud bump, and she let out a wail. He was knocking at her door before he even processed what he was doing. She opened it reluctantly, nose as bright red as her hair.</p><p>‘I can’t hear Deedee anymore! And I was so scared I’d lost my powers so I tried to fly and I couldn’t… Oh, Gilbert. I’m such a terrible witch. No, I’m not even a witch at <em>all</em> anymore. I've lost everything.’</p><p>He took her in his arms and held her. ‘This will pass, I promise you. It will.’ And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.</p><p>*</p><p>The census was on its way to Charlottetown three days later to stay for two weeks and gather data. Gilbert asked Anne if she would like to accompany him down to the harbour, where the dirigible holding the records was docked. She sat on the back of his bike, arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his neck as they wound their way down to the harbour. He tied up his bike at the roadside and he took her hand with calculated casualness. She interlinked their fingers without thinking about it.</p><p>They picked their way down the rocks that led to the sandy beach, stopping at the pools to fish out the clams and crabs. Anne could spend forever lost in the iridescent whorls, or convincing herself that a nondescript piece of white rock was a pearl, and he could spend forever watching her, getting invested in it through her enthusiasm.</p><p>‘Anne! Is this a simple conch shell, or rather a palace for a mighty crab king?’</p><p>‘Definitely a palace! Look - are those emeralds?’</p><p>They were clearly not emeralds, but worn down glass bottles. Yet both of them pretended they were, placing the spoils of their beachcombing in the shell Gilbert had found. Gilbert nearly stepped on a razor-clam, and she panicked, before he began teasing her about the many scrapes she’d got into in just the first twenty-four hours of their acquaintance.</p><p>‘A starfish!’ she exclaimed, and he turned it over, showing her its many little leg-mouths, before releasing it back into its watery cottage.</p><p>‘I saw one in Lisbon this summer! Though it had completely different colours.’ He laughed. ‘Perhaps this one followed me here with a little waterproof technicolour dreamcoat-’</p><p>‘GILBERT!’ came a cry from the road. It was his friendship group in the automobile again. He was not going to lose her this time; he unconsciously grabbed her hand tighter.</p><p>‘Josie,’ he nodded back.</p><p>‘Is that the orphan who poisoned Diana?’ yelled Josie, not known for her tact. Although, it was entirely possible that she had chosen this descriptor specifically to wound the girl she found with Charlottetown's most eligible bachelor.</p><p>‘This is my friend, Anne!’ he shouted louder. She gave him a wan grin, but pulled her hand out of his grip. He let her go; he was not her jailer. She wandered further down the beach towards the sea. He watched her as she went, hiking up her black skirt as she kicked at the waves.</p><p>‘GILBERT!’ Josie hollered again.</p><p>‘LEAVE ME ALONE!’ All heads turned at that, including Anne’s. He had finally snapped. ‘I’m not coming with you,’ he said, quieter, but still loud enough to be heard. ‘Go to the dirigible yourselves. If you can’t be nice, I’m not going with you.’</p><p>A door slammed up on the road. ‘I’m not going either, Josie. Go by yourself.’ It was Diana, stepping down the roughly hewn steps and heading for Anne by the sea. When she reached her, she grabbed her hand. ‘I hate my mother,’ she whispered. ‘Do let us be friends.’ Anne squeezed her hand and drew her into a hug.</p><p>‘Don’t hate your mother. She just cares about you.’</p><p>Ruby, Jane and Tilly had hopped out of the automobile too, following Diana’s lead and leaving Josie, and Charlie in the car. Moody joined them soon after. Gilbert offered them approving nods. The purpose of the trip - checking the census records - may have been derailed, but he knew how much the acceptance of his friends meant to her.</p><p>*</p><p>Anne felt better after that day, yet Mrs Barry had still unlocked something within her - a deep desire to know who she was. Cole had been visiting for three days, but he had noticed her changed demeanour. He spoke to Aunt Jo and Gertrude, and gained permission to go back up to the cabin for a night with Anne, before coming back more permanently. Gilbert had met him now, and the three of them, along with Cole’s friend Peter, got along well. Anne nudged Gilbert whenever Cole and Roy would walk off ahead of them, and Gilbert swiftly got the message.</p><p>The day came for Anne’s visit up to the woods with Cole. She hugged Bash and Mary, whispered ‘don’t come when I’m not here’ to the baby, and awkwardly side-hugged Gilbert. Then she ran to the car which Aunt Jo had provided them with.</p><p>Cole’s cabin was almost as she had remembered it. The additions were sketches papered up on the wall, and more detailed paintings drying from strings hung up on the ceilings. She smiled to see the beauty brought forth from Cole’s artistic fulfilment. His smile was wider, too. He was proud of his work.</p><p>‘And, Anne, look!’ His wrist moved a little more freely with all the exercise he had been giving it. It would never be the same, but he had accommodated it, and improved his art with the thought and effort required.</p><p>They bedded down on cushions, under the sky and Marilla’s quilt. The circle of fir trees gave way quite clearly to the moon above. It was almost full - she had been away from Green Gables for some time.</p><p>Cole cleared his throat and shifted next to her. ‘You know, it doesn’t matter where you come from. In every meaningful way, you’re an Islander. You got two lonely people to adore you, and that was just the start of it. Your special witchcraft is making people love you. You bring people joy, and I don’t think you even know you’re doing it.’</p><p>She was silent for a moment, but he heard her sniff. ‘Thank you,’ she said sincerely, her voice cracking. ‘You don’t know what that means to me.’</p><p>‘You’re you, Anne. It doesn’t matter where you came from. You built yourself the way you are. You took the worst of life and you made it beautiful. Let yourself be loved like you love other people. People - and one person in particular,’ he chuckled, nudging her, ‘are only too willing to love you. You just have to believe you deserve it.’</p><p>‘Cole! You’re a poet.’ She swiftly changed the subject to the art schools he was applying to after this year as a ‘hermit,’ his words, spent honing his talent. But his words warmed her up. He was a little bit magic himself, she thought, staring at his paintings which seemed to step off the page.</p><p>*</p><p>They headed back to Charlottetown the next day, stopping first at Aunt Jo’s. The television was on in the corner, and the two ladies were watching with horror, clutching each other.</p><p>‘Oh, you two! Come here,’ beckoned Aunt Jo. ‘The dirigible has been let loose!’</p><p>On the screen, people were screaming, desperately holding onto the ropes which had anchored it to the docks. The camera zoomed in onto the pile of people holding the rope as the dirigible soared upwards. One by one they let go, unable to hold much longer. All except for one person.</p><p>Gilbert.</p><p>Anne didn’t think, she didn’t wait. She ran to the hall, where Aunt Jo’s maid was sweeping, and grabbed the broomstick. She ran outside to the driveway, and in the distance she could see the dirigible floating upwards. There was no time to doubt herself or her powers, and she simply took off into the distance, singlemindedly heading towards the dangling silhouette that grew as she drew nearer and nearer.</p><p>‘GIL!’ she yelled, reaching a hand out to him. Above them, the dirigible crashed into the clocktower, dislodging a gargoyle which looked faintly like her old teacher, Mr Philips. Her heart flew into her mouth as she saw how long it took to fall and smash upon the cobbles of the square. She looked back up at Gilbert, his eyes full of panic as the force of the impact swung him away from her. He was careening towards the clocktower, its Gothic stone pointed and twirling and incredibly painful-looking, so she shot forwards and there was his hand and she was lowering her broom for him to climb onto the back just as she had climbed onto his bike and she descended and there was the ground beneath her feet and they had both collapsed onto it, holding each other tighter and tighter…</p><p>The cheers of the crowd became louder and clearer as they both got their bearings. There in front of them was Anne’s first customer, Miss Stacy, helping them to their feet. Her notepad was abandoned on the ground; with her other arm she pushed her photographer’s bulb camera down. She brushed them both off, checking them for injuries. The cluster of people around them was yelling; they moved forward to pick them both up on their shoulders and carry them to the steps of the town hall. Bash and Mary pushed their way to the front of the crowd, and their little group of four grouped together in a tight hug. When they released each other, Gilbert didn’t let go of Anne, clasping her hand in his. She was not inclined to break the connection.</p><p>Mary fought back the crowds, yelling that they needed privacy, and Bash dealt with the reporters. Eventually the crowd dispersed, and Bash had spoken to Miss Stacy to give their names for the Charlottetown paper.</p><p>‘Why did you do it?’ she asked, grabbing Gilbert's arm with her other hand. He turned to her, his face startlingly close.</p><p>‘It was stupid. I-’ He wouldn’t meet her eyes.</p><p>‘<em>Gilbert</em>,’ she whispered.</p><p>‘I- it- your parents. I thought that- well, you know the dirigible carries the physical copy of the Nova Scotia census since its beginning?’</p><p>‘Yes,’ said Anne, feeling a smile curving like a crescent moon across her face.</p><p>‘Well, I was there seeing if I could search the records for your parents. Because you wanted to know who they were so badly. I understand, you know. I always wanted to meet my mother, and at least I had my father there to describe her. You’re wonderful as you are, and knowing who your parents are isn’t at all important to what you’re worth to anyone with a single brain cell,’ he said bitterly, clearly thinking of Mrs Barry. They were standing outside the bakery now, and Mary and Bash had tactically entered without them. ‘But if you want to know who they are, you should know. And then the dirigible got loose, and although I realise now that there are probably census copies everywhere in the province I just blindly grabbed it as though the information would be lost forev-’</p><p>She had reached up to slide her fingers into his curls and, just as quickly as she had hit him with her broom or run off to save him, she had brought his mouth down to hers and stopped his chatter. She grinned as he immediately brought his arm around her waist, and the other into her hair, pressing her to him and winding himself around her. They smiled against each other’s lips for a moment, before joining back together for another kiss.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>Dearest of dear Marillas and Matthews (and hello, Jerry!),</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How are you both? What news of Avonlea?</em>
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  <em>Mary delivered a beautiful baby girl yesterday! Her name is Delphine. Her eyes are huge and her curls are simply glorious, and I promise you she has smiled at me already. Gilbert and I are to be godparents!</em>
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  <em>I imagine by now that you’ve seen the census dirigible incident on the television, or that Mrs Lynde heard it at the station and has told you everything (though if she knows that Gilbert and I are in love I shall eat my hat! I should hope that part of the day wasn’t televised!). It turns out that Gilbert wanted to save any information it may have had on my parents. Though the dirigible was lost, the census office did have some information - I’m Scottish! And they sent me photographs. I look like my mother. But no family I may have back in Scotland could possibly compare to the family and friends I have found here on the island, and the people closest to my heart - my wonderful Avonlea parents.</em>
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  <em>Diana has told her mother that we are to be the closest of friends no matter what she says, and her mother has come to relent after the incident. Gilbert’s other friends have come to accept me, even Josie and Charlie, and I have begun a writing club with some of them. We meet every other Saturday in a clubhouse at Ruby’s!</em>
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  <em>The delivery business is going even better now, and I feel so effervescently happy, especially now Deedee is talking again! People are so kind and generous, to each other and to me. The amount of baked goods and dog-eared books and love letters I ferry to each side of Charlottetown is enough to have my mouth watering and curiosity burning at all hours of the day. Of course, no Charlottetown cakes are quite like Mary’s, and none on earth are quite like yours, Marilla.</em>
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  <em>I look forward to the day I can see you both again… perhaps I may happen upon you in Charlottetown someday soon?</em>
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  <em>All my love, now and forever,</em><br/>
<em>Anne xxx</em>
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